


A DezeRose Ficlet Collection

by Straya



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Illness, Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Please see chapter summaries and notes for individual story tags, Random & Short, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26631856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Straya/pseuds/Straya
Summary: A collection of short Dezel/Rose fics I wrote out on my phone while at work and on-the-go, one ficlet per chapter. Tags will be updated as necessary, teen-and-up rating chosen just in case! Each story may take place within a different setting, some within or very close to canon, others in AU scenarios. Indicators will be in story notes/within the writing, itself.Story 1: "Birthday"Story 2: "Bound"Story 3: "Last Days"Story 4: "Lost and Found"Story 5: "Legacy"Story 6: "Role Reversal"
Relationships: Dezel/Rose (Tales of Zestiria)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 10





	1. Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Starting with something light... When is Dezel's birthday, anyway? Rose would like to know!
> 
> Dedicated to MegumitheGreat!

"It isn't fair that you don't have a birthday, you know."

Dezel blinked in mild confusion at the statement, eyes unseeing as they stared out toward the horizon beyond Lastonbell's stone walls. Below, the sound of trades concluding in late evening rose up as muffled sounds, buffered by distance and a cool breeze.

"Why?" he asked. "And what brought that on?"

"Because we don't know what day to give you gifts and stuff," Rose replied as if it were totally obvious. She swung her legs over the ledge where she sat beside her companion, the two of them seated on the bridging section of the tower near the largest of the town's bells. "Are you sure you don't remember when you were born?"

Dezel sighed. Rose had always been more curious about other people than anything else, but that helped make her a savvy businesswoman. "When, yes. Sometime in the fall, I think. But the exact day, no."

"Just not a thing seraphim really do, huh?"

"Why would we? Many of us live so long, what does it matter?"

"So the others probably wouldn't know theirs either, except for maybe Mikleo."

"Probably."

"But you do more or less keep track of how many years you've been around?"

Dezel sighed again. So many questions. "Some do, in a rough sense. But not so much as they get older. It matters less and less, or so I'm told."

Rose was quiet a moment, considering that. Then: "You should just pick a day for yourself. I'd say the others should too but of course, we don't know how long we'll all be traveling together once Heldalf is gone."

"Are you trying to make up for the lack of offerings all these years? I don't care about that if you are."

Her cheeks flushed a bit in mild embarrassment. He could feel the shift in temperature on the breeze. "No! I mean, I'm not saying we shouldn't do that, though. We do owe you a lot for all those years."

"You don't owe me anything. I have more to make up to you, anyway."

Rose shook her head. "Let's not go there again, okay? Besides, I was just trying to suggest that you have a day for yourself."

Any further resistance on Dezel's part was probably futile and yet... "I still don't see the point of it."

Huffing in frustration, Rose flopped against his shoulder. "Why are you being so stubborn? Is it just because birthdays are a human thing?"

"Maybe."

"Well, let me ask you this then... Next time my birthday comes around, will you make me something? Like a cake or some chocolates?"

The questions gave Dezel real pause, as the part of him that had grown accustomed to being aloof wanted to offer a passive response. But things had changed. The situation was different. And he couldn't help but think of every instance in the past when he had wanted to be a part of the happier times in Rose's life and could not.

"...yeah," he finally admitted. "I would."

"And would you agree that having a partnership means that all things should be equal between partners?" She was gazing up at him expectantly.

"I suppose that's what that means, yes."

"So then it's not fair for me to have a day to myself with a gift from you when you don't have a day of your own when I can give you something, too!"

Ah, she had him there. Before he could respond, her hand found his, their fingers intertwining. She leaned against him further and when she spoke again, her voice was quieter.

"Besides, it wasn't that long ago that you almost gave up everything for me. Being able to celebrate having you around for another year, every year would be nice."

His chest tingled with emotions as they welled up, feelings he was still growing used to having. Painful ones, but it was a pleasant hurt that he relished. He nodded and gave her hand a light, affectionate squeeze, the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly.

"Alright. Point made."

She smiled brightly at him and leaned up to kiss his cheek, making his heart skip a beat. "Good! So what day should it be?"

Tipping his head down, he kissed her forehead. "You can choose it for me. We'll call it an early birthday present."


	2. Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dezel accidentally discovers that Rose has been hiding something from him. Two somethings, to be precise. (Set in a "Resonance Unblocked" type of AU.)
> 
> Dedicated to Hoverdragon. <3

The tiny box had fallen from one of Rose's pouches while she haggled with a supplier. Dezel had scooped it up in her wake, intending to call her attention to the loss and return the box once the business deal concluded. However, curiosity got the better of him.

He pried the small container open, just enough to allow for some minimal airflow in and out.

His clouded eyes widened. A pair of rings were nestled inside, one in gold, one in silver. The human voices nearby became muffled as his thoughts raced, far too much of his focus turning inward. Surely this was just some merchandise Rose was holding onto personally for a favored client. It was in no way possible they were a set if engagement rings she would have use for, herself. After all, the only steady partner she currently had was Dezel, himself. They were exclusive to one another. Yet, that she would ever want rings for them...

The deal was concluding, Rose bidding her contact farewell for the moment. Without thinking, Dezel slipped the box into one jacket pocket. Rose turned back to him, saying something quietly about where their next business contact would be but Dezel barely heard her, his head buzzing with too many thoughts. He merely nodded and followed where she led, as he always did.

* * *

Dezel left Rose's side after dinner for one last check on the horses at the stables before heading for their shared inn room. When he arrived, he found Rose all but tearing the place to pieces in search of something. His chest tightened and before he could finish asking what was going on, Rose cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"I...misplaced something. Nothing super important. Don't worry about it."

Her cheeks were slightly flushed, her heart rate elevated. The loss was affecting her more than she cared to let on.

"What was it? Do you want help looking for it?" Dezel's own heart was beating quicker. The box in his pocket felt heavier, as though threatening to chew a hole through the fabric and drop to the floor.

"No! No, it's fine! I'm sure it'll turn up somewhere," Rose managed, forcing a brief smile. Still, despite her best efforts, she was exhibiting hints of frustration; the smile did not reach her eyes. Her hands trembled slightly as she rechecked her pouches. She was upset with herself. "I just hate losing things. Why don't you get ready for bed? I'll just look around a little more and then call it a night."

He knew then that he would have to say something. Still, Dezel hesitated as he slipped one hand into his pocket, taking a moment to grip the tiny box. He had over-thought the situation, surely. Marriage was for humans and his partner had never seemed the marrying sort. Some part of him longed to be so tightly bound to her, to have that pact apply to them as a couple, but it was not for them. Not for a seraph and a human, not when their deep and carnal partnership was probably blasphemous by the church's standards, anyway.

"Is this it?" Dezel drew the box from his pocket, holding it out as he stepped toward her. "You dropped it earlier."

Rose's cheeks flushed a deeper pink, but she was quick to take the box back, her expression a mix of relief, embarrassment, and concern. "You found it! Wait...oh gods, you didn't open it, did you...?"

"I...I did. Sorry. I shouldn't have..."

"Then...you've probably guessed..." She couldn't seem to finish, trailing off as her gaze dropped to the floor briefly.

"I don't know?" Dezel could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage. "The rings, they're just merchandise, aren't they...?"

The answer seemed to upset Rose further, her hands shaking as she held the box. "No! They're...they're for us. I didn't think you'd ever propose to me because that's such a human tradition, so I thought I'd just do it myself, but then I realized that maybe you wouldn't even want that at all. I've had these for weeks because I wasn't sure if I should ask or not."

It was uncharacteristic of her to be so uncertain, and Dezel supposed that spoke volumes about how important this was to her. Taking off his hat, he set it on her head.

"Did you forget what a sentimental fool I can be?" he asked softly, his heart no longer pounding in his chest but rather fluttering with pent-up emotion. With affection and gratitude. "If you want to exchange oaths and rings, if that helps bind us further, I think I'd like that."

"Even if marriage isn't a seraphim thing...?"

"It's not, but what we have already breaks tradition. Why not keep defying it?"

Rose blinked at him from beneath the brim of his hat, then grinned, the corners of her eyes damp with the threat of tears. Then she was on one knee before him, the box held open to reveal the rings. The gold for her, Dezel guessed, the silver for him.

"Dezel...my Lukeim Yurlin...will you marry me?"

He couldn't help but chuckle fondly. Then he was kneeling as well, one hand joining hers in holding the ring box, the other lifting his hat so he could kiss her.

"Of course, my Rose."


	3. Last Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lifetime has come and gone, but Rose has no fear of the coming end.
> 
> Canon compliant. Character death. No dedication this time since it's something of a somber story.

The others wondered how it was that she could approach her final days with such calm, thinking that it must be a sense of world-weariness. Or perhaps it was that she had grown tired of the old husk of a body that could no longer keep pace with her whims. Or maybe it was acceptance following a life well-lived, a deserved rest after all she had done in service to others. She never wept over the coming end and only smiled when asked if she was truly prepared, after all. She had chosen her final resting place years ago - a high, green cliff where there were few trees and a near-constant flowing breeze. They supposed that what mattered was that she was ready to stake her final claim on the beautiful spot, to stop wandering once and for all and call that patch of wilds "home."

But the truth was quite the opposite. In the remaining months of her life, Rose's dreams ebbed into reality, the veil lifting higher than it ever had, even during her time as Shepherd. She caught glimpses of him as she once did when she was young – a flash of silver and green out of the corner of one eye, a brief reflection of his eyes in a pane of window glass. He had told her once before he died that his kind cast no reflection unless they willed it, and she knew then that when those faded visions appeared, he was waiting. He always had been, his essence still in the wind at her back all that time. Never had she ever been on her own, even in the direst of times.

So as the summer breezes cooled to the crisp breath of fall air, as the leaves began to turn and her own breath felt shallower with each passing day, she waited for him to come for her. He would be there, she knew, with a hand outstretched, ready to whisk her away. To fill the hole in her heart and soul that he had left behind decades before, the one that no other could ever hope to patch and soothe.

He would take her and she would take him in turn, and they would finally wander freely, forever. Not bound by physical forms, part of the natural world that they had both come to love so much in their travels. She did not wish for reincarnation, not if he remained absent. They were two sides of the same coin, after all. Fate bound them, deep longing sustained them, and a partnership long denied would keep them hand in ethereal hand.

So when the day finally arrived, dawning cold and clear, the breeze beckoning her and rolling gently against her palm as if to take her by the hand and pull her from her bed, Rose closed her eyes and breathed her last. She felt him in her final exhale, saw the green of his wild eyes as she shut her own.

_"I've been waiting for you,"_ he said, and though his form shifted as he moved, like leaves in the wind, she knew he was smiling fondly at her.

_"I know,"_ she answered, her once tired voice light and clear as they left the bed behind and chased each other out over the fields, bodies weightless and free. _"I always believed that one day we'd be together again."_


	4. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He thought he would never see her again, but sometimes for the deeply resonant, death isn't always goodbye.
> 
> Dedicated to AlleyCat Sunflower.

Tintagel Ruins were as he remembered them - dark, damp, and filled with both stagnant air and the lingering stench of hellions. The previous infestation had been cleared out years prior, but a few small stragglers remained, lurking in the shadows and watching hungrily for any weak fool who might wander the ancient corridors alone in search of valuable relics.

He hadn't come all that willingly. The ruins remained a place of both good and bad memories, but the old halls mostly reminded Dezel of companions he may never meet again. The seraphim out of the lot, possibly. The humans were another story, Sparrowfeather and otherwise. But the ruins held the promise of something else, or so the wind seraph had been told. Something more valuable than the finest gold, more precious than any royal gems. Whether or not reality would meet his expectations was another story.

Zaveid traipsed along in Dezel's wake, offering a passing bit of commentary here and there, most of which the younger wind seraph ignored. The elder man still wore on his nerves somewhat, always chattering far too much. Trying too hard to be friendly. But Zaveid was the one who managed to convince Dezel to return to the ruins, so too many complaints would make for an ungrateful attitude and Dezel was in no mood for an argument.

When they came upon the old, faded mural that marked the locations of the trial shrines, Dezel couldn't help but run a hand across the painted stone. It had been nearly a century since their Shepherd had taken on the heavy task of purifying Maotelus. And yet it felt like only a few years since they had all stood before that same mural, plotting their next move in the fight against the Lord of Calamity.

"...likely be at least a few more hundred years before we see Sheps again," Zaveid said from behind him. "Ya miss him?"

Dezel frowned and stepped back from the mural. "...yeah. Damn kid."

They moved deeper into the ruins, following the stairs and corridors down into Tintagel's belly. As Dezel walked, he kept one pendulum in hand, the other hand drifting up to the two round and hollow hair ornaments that hung around his neck on a thin silver chain. The malevolence was thicker now, but his vessel - one of the two ornaments - was a strong, pure object. It would shield him for a while to come, much as his old vessel had before it.

He sensed the other seraph on the breeze he was generating before he heard and smelled her. She was farther down the corridor, huddled against the wall by a pile of stone rubble. His heart quickened as they drew near, Dezel feeling his throat grow tighter as they rounded the bend. Her scent was not entirely familiar and yet...so nostalgic.

"He's here, missy!" Zaveid called out, ruining any chance of a subtle approach. "Told ya I'd bring him!"

She peered out at them from behind the rubble, the dim light from Zaveid's torch just barely reaching her. Dezel stood rooted to the spot, unable to miss how familiar she looked through the wind. Her height, her build... Even her hair, though it had turned a silver-white, tipped in emerald green. And her eyes... Her eyes remained the same brilliant blue, the color of the sky as night's velvet black seeped onto the hues of twilight.

Then she was running toward him, catching him in a desperate embrace about the waist, nearly knocking him over.

"I don't even remember your name, but I've been looking for you for so long!" she cried, and his heart nearly seized up at the sound of the voice he thought he'd never hear again. Then she was pounding her fists against his chest in frustration, tears streaking her face. "Why were you so hard to find?! Why weren't you here?! And why can't I actually remember-!"

He pulled her into a hug, cutting her off. He was crying himself now, trembling with pent up emotions. What to say... What could he even say? She had no clear memories left. Death had stolen them away several years prior and nothing he could do would ever bring them back.

"Wouldn't follow me to you," Zaveid said softly, a hint of melancholy in his voice. "But at least she's here, yeah? And now you are, too."

"Say something, dammit!" she cried as she clutched at the back of his jacket. "After all this time I spent searching..."

His throat felt too tight to speak. But as he choked back a sob, tears slipping down his cheeks and into her hair, he finally found his voice.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I didn't think I'd ever see you again. But now that I have you back, I'm never going to let go of you again. I promise."


	5. Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose wants to expand their family. Dezel has, as one might expect, a dozen or so concerns about how things may or may not work out.
> 
> Warnings for mentions of pregnancy and childbirth. Post-canon, Dezel-lives style AU.
> 
> Dedicated to DualtheSol.

Dezel was not typically the anxious type, at least not outwardly, anyway. When he did feel concerned or nervous, such difficult emotions often manifested as frustration, though how he conveyed it usually depended on the situation and the person involved.

In this case, however, the person he was concerned about was his life and breath, the keeper of his heart, his main reason for remaining among humans. And while he was more careful and considerate with her than with anyone else, he currently had little means of expressing his worry directly. Not when he was sitting in a room separate from her, hat in his hands while his fingers ran 'round and 'round the brim of his headpiece in endless, anxious fidgeting.

“You're worryin' too much,” Zaveid said from where he leaned against the wall nearby. “Eguille said the midwife they found is one of the best in Hyland. Rose will be fine.”

“Tch, just because the chances of something going wrong aren't high, doesn't mean the worst can't still happen,” Dezel retorted, trying his best to keep an anxious waver out of his voice.

Nearby, occupying a few of the other available chairs and the remaining standing space in the main room of the little cottage was a handful of Sparrowfeathers, Eguille and Talfryn among them. Felice had been asked by the midwife and her assistant to be of aid in the bedroom. Rosh was away on business and couldn't be present. Their guest was a young man barely twenty years of age – the Shepherd who had taken up the mantle when Rose retired a couple of years prior. Within him were the other seraphim – Lailah, Edna, and Mikleo, staying out of the way the best way they knew how within the cramped quarters of the cottage. It so happened that the group had been passing through Marlind when it became apparent that Rose was about to become a mother on top of a successful businesswoman and former Shepherd.

Dezel set his hat back on his head, hoping that if he took his favorite item for fidgeting from his own two hands, he could manage to settle somewhat. Instead, he began wringing his hands. No winning in this situation, apparently.

Every so often, Rose cried out from behind the closed bedroom door, causing some of the others to glance up in concern, their quiet conversation ceasing momentarily. Dezel, on the other hand, did not need such vague sounds to keep him updated on the situation. He could feel and read the air and how it moved on the other side of the door. He watched with relentless obsession, aware of how Rose was breathing, of how she gripped Felice's hand while the younger woman helped coach her through the process.

Rose had wanted this. It had been her main reason for retiring from Shepherding so early when she was only in her mid-thirties. She wanted blood-family, she said. At least one child who was as resonant as she to carry on her stead when she was gone. To be there for Dezel when her time was up. To be a part of their little family on the whole, which unfortunately even the other Sparrowfeathers had some difficulty understanding. There had been many nights of lengthy discussions between Rose and Dezel leading up to the final decision; whether or not they could handle the responsibility, how they would manage in those years before the child was old enough to travel safely, as well as who would temporarily take over Rose's business responsibilities in her stead. Dezel, himself, had been so very unsure of it all. As a seraph, he had never considered the possibility of helping with human child-rearing in a very hands-on fashion. Then there was the matter of Rose's age, how the older she got, the more risky childbirth became. Then, it had been a pain and a half locating a man with even remote amounts of resonance, one who Rose could pay for a hopefully successful one-night stand.

Then, suddenly, there it was... The sound of a baby crying. The entire room seemed to almost physically deflate in relief. Zaveid clapped Dezel on the shoulder, cracking a joke about how he had better be ready for fatherhood starting tonight. The younger seraph barely heard him as he got to his feet, however, his hat in his hands. How had it gotten there again? He didn't recall taking it from his head. Yet he had little time to think on it, too preoccupied with counting the minutes it took for the midwife and her assistant to finally emerge, Felice in their wake, all of them appearing tired but satisfied.

“It's a healthy baby girl!” the midwife announced, a broad smile between the wrinkles etched on her face. “You all can go in one or two at a time to visit in a bit, but first the new mother would like a few minutes alone with her little one.”

“Hey, that's your cue,” Zaveid urged, giving Dezel a gentle push. “Go visit before the others are allowed in.”

Dezel nodded, then swallowed anxiously as he joined the wind and slipped beneath the closed door. The bedroom on the other side was dimly lit, the curtains drawn almost completely over the single window across from the bed. This was their room, their space within the cottage they'd acquired to have and raise a baby together. It was cozy and quaint, a safe place for them both.

And now, a safe place for the life Rose had brought into the world, as well.

“Dezel, come see her!” Rose was beaming at him from their bed, her face damp with sweat and the bags under her eyes all too evident after several long hours of labor. “Isn't she wonderful?”

He moved closer, uncertain as to whether it was caution or reverence that slowed his footsteps. But though trauma had taken his eyesight several years prior, the wind told him all he needed to know.

She was a tiny bundle of a human being, soft and fragile as she lay within a clean blanket in her mother's arms. Kneeling by the side of the bed, his hat still in one hand, Dezel carefully looked her over, gentle in how he used the air currents so as not to chill her.

“She's beautiful,” he managed weakly after a moment. “She looks like a tiny version of you. Can...I touch her?”

“Of course! She's your daughter, too,” Rose encouraged, her smile softening.

 _His daughter._ Not words Dezel ever thought he would hear.

Leaning down a little more, he reached out tentatively, his index finger running over the back of one tiny hand. It was then she opened her eyes, blue as her mother's, and looked up at him. Dezel froze, his own eyes widening in uncertainty. Was she looking directly at him or through him? Did children so young with resonance know their own power at birth? What if she wasn't resonant at all? What if she was never able to see him? What if–

She grabbed at his finger, clutching at it, making a contented little gurgling noise as she did so. Dezel's breath caught and he shifted his attention to Rose to see her smiling at him, the corners of her eyes wet with tears. It was then that all the worry that had been plaguing Dezel for the last several hours released him, dissolving into joy and relief, and he let out a small, shaky laugh, tears springing to his own eyes as he let his daughter keep a hold of his finger.

“Look at her, she already knows you!” Then Rose was pulling him in for a kiss, mindful of the tiny bundle between them. As they bumped foreheads affectionately, she laughed a little, herself. “Daddy Dezel. ...'Dadzel', I guess?”

“Rose, I swear, if you teach her to call me that when she's old enough...” Though Dezel tried to put on a stern tone, he ultimately failed, unable to keep the smile from his face.

“You know I'll do exactly that, though.”

“You really would. So much trouble, as always.”

Though Dezel had to admit... “Dadzel” had kind of a cute ring to it. Maybe he'd let that one fly if that's really what their daughter wanted to call him.


	6. Role Reversal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For once, Dezel is the one who needs looking after. 
> 
> A canon-compliant, "what if" scenario set during game canon. Perhaps unrequited love, perhaps not depending on how you look at it.
> 
> Dedicated to NighttimeSabbatical. I hope you are well, wherever you are and in whatever you're doing these days, my friend.

“You shouldn't have loaned me your jacket. I didn't need it that much!”

“If I hadn't, it'd be you sick in bed instead of me.”

“You don't know that for sure!”

“We seraphim rarely end up ill. If I got sick in that weather, you definitely would have.”

Dezel did his best to scowl up at Rose from where he lay back in bed, though having caught something after being out in bad weather left him unable to muster up the energy needed for more than a disapproving frown. They were holed up in an inn room while Sorey and the others were out picking up more supplies; it had been decided early that morning that another day in town was needed before they headed out again if just to give Dezel time to recover somewhat. Might as well make the most of their time, right? Except that Rose had insisted on staying with Dezel at the inn, putting forth what efforts she could manage in taking care of him.

Or what efforts Dezel allowed, anyway. He was being dreadfully stubborn about everything, including accepting the soup Rose had brought for him on a tray.

“You say that, but somehow Sorey and the others are just fine,” Rose shot back. “Now, here. Quit being such a grouch and have some soup! It'll make you feel better!”

“Because I stayed outside Sorey to keep the cold wind at bay after the rain stopped, taking the burden on myself,” Dezel grumbled back before frowning in the direction of the offered food. “And where'd that come from? Did you make that?”

“I ordered it from the inn kitchen. Why?”

“Because I don't need food poisoning on top of a cold.”

Rose narrowed her eyes. “You're lucky you're sick, otherwise I'd be tempted to dump this right into your lap! My cooking isn't that bad!”

Unwilling to waste energy on arguing further, Dezel finally eased himself into a sitting position to accept the tray. Once Rose had set it down across his blanket-covered lap, Rose plopped down in a nearby chair. Silence fell over the room for a few minutes while the wind seraph forced himself to eat, managing to down half the soup before he decided he didn't want anything more.

“You know, instead of griping about my cooking, you could just teach me how to be better at it,” Rose said as she removed the tray and set it on the bedside table.

“Maybe. If you promised to take it seriously.”

Before Rose could say anything to that, Dezel was hit by a sneezing fit. Shivering in the aftermath, he sniffled weakly and sunk down beneath the covers. Rose sighed and handed him a handkerchief, carefully taking it back once he was through with it and setting that aside, as well.

“I _can_ take things other than my guild business seriously,” she reminded him as she reached over to set a hand on his forehead. “Like taking care of you right now.”

Dezel tensed a little under her touch, struggling not to let certain feelings bubble to the surface as her fingers brushed his bangs aside. Her skin was comparatively cooler against his own, which was no doubt warmed by a mild fever. Still, he was sure that wasn't the reason his face suddenly felt a fraction more flushed, his cheeks burning under both Rose's touch and her softening expression.

“You don't have to do this, Rose.” His voice was quieter as he opened his eyes, blind gaze shifting in her direction.

“True, but you're always doing your best to look after the rest of us, me especially. You may be a big grouch, but I can tell you mean well.”

He swallowed in discomfort and not just because his throat hurt. Guilt was creeping in again, as it did now and then when he let a few too many feelings show and was rewarded with caring sentiments in return. He didn't deserve any of this. Not from anyone, but especially not from Rose.

“Your face is kinda flushed,” she went on when he said nothing in response, her hand lifting from his forehead. “But you also feel a little feverish, too. Do you want a cold cloth?”

“No. I actually feel a bit chilled. I think it might be best if I just get some sleep.”

“Do you want me to find you another blanket, then?”

“Don't worry about it, Rose.”

Dezel rolled over, facing away from his temporary, self-proclaimed caretaker. If he was honest with himself, another blanket would be nice, but he wasn't about to ask Rose to pull one off the other bed or go hunting around the inn for an extra. She had done enough already.

He was only allowed a few seconds of peace before he heard the sound of Rose removing her boots, however. Stirring the air currents a fraction, he "watched" as she set them aside, then sat down on the edge of the bed to pull the covers back.

“What are you doing?” He tensed as he raised his head, turning as though to glance back at her even though his silver eyes couldn't see what she was up to.

“Keeping you warm while making myself comfortable,” Rose replied as she slipped under the sheets and quilt. “It's a sensible two for one deal! Besides, I need my rest too, you know.”

“Rose! That isn't–it isn't appropriate!” Dezel sputtered, his already flushed face taking on a deeper pink tinge. “And what if you get sick, too? Just go sleep in the other bed!”

“Sorey will need that one when he gets back.” She turned to face him, setting a hand on his upturned shoulder. “Or are you saying you'd rather I share a bed with him?”

Dezel hunched his shoulders up under the covers, loathe to admit that envy was rapidly taking hold of him. Still, Rose shouldn't be sharing a bed with him for a variety of reasons, the least of them being that she might also fall ill. But the hand on his shoulder was starting to rub gently, urging him to roll over. The sensation sent pleasant shivers up Dezel's spine, countering the miserable, feverish chills in the rest of his tired body.

Thus he finally relented, too exhausted to argue and selfishly allowing himself this one chance, this one luxury to be close to the woman he loved but in no way deserved in his life. Rolling over, he faced Rose and let her draw him closer, one of her arms wrapping around him to rub at his back as he rested his too hot forehead against her chest.

“There you go,” she murmured, lips curving in a half-amused, half genuinely fond smile. “Now get some sleep, okay?”

He nodded once, unable to speak for fear his voice might betray him and crack. Instead, he focused on how her hand moved from his back to his head, stroking his hair and drawing the tension from his body, and on the way her scent managed to envelop his senses despite his head congestion. The sound of her breathing was comforting. The sound of her heart beating was a relaxing rhythm that made him feel pleasantly drowsy. And, as their shared body heat warmed the space beneath the blankets, Dezel found himself drifting off to sleep.

His last thought was the painful one that, someday far too soon, his time with Rose would run out.


End file.
